


What Lies Deep

by swtalmnd



Category: Cthulhu Mythos - H. P. Lovecraft, National Treasure (2004), National Treasure (Movies), National Treasure: Book of Secrets (2007)
Genre: Crossover, M/M, The Shadow Over Innsmouth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:31:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,958
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swtalmnd/pseuds/swtalmnd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ben Gates finds a box of documents when he's helping his mother move, and it leads him toward Innsmouth and back to Riley.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Lies Deep

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Senji](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Senji/gifts).



_Riley,_

_I've been helping Mom move, and I found this crate of old documents that posit the existence of an ancient cult in Massachusetts. There's a packet of letters from one of the ancestors on her side of the family, a Jeremiah Marsh, that mentions the Esoteric Order of Dagon several times._

_There's a few other things in the crate, I'm going to see if she'll let me take it. Just think, it could be evidence of a secret society that actually stayed secret all these years!_

_Yours,_  
_Ben_

* * *

"You don't need to worry about any of that stuff," my mom replied when I asked her for the crate. "We're not from that line."

"I have no idea what you mean," I said. "Can I please just have the crate?"

She threw her hands up. "Yes, fine, I wash my hands of you. Don't come crawling back to me when it all ends in tears and madness."

"Yes, Mom," I said. "Thank you." I kissed her cheek, which seemed to mollify her, and put the crate in the car with a bunch of other stuff she was letting me take. It was about full, but we were nearing the end of the day, so I'd be able to drive it all home and peruse it at my leisure, as long as I returned the next day to help her finish. We were almost done with all the artifacts and documents, so the movers would finally be allowed in to deal with the rest. Sometimes I regretted learning how to safely handle ancient and delicate items, but only at times like these.

Moving my dad was just as bad.

* * *

_Riley,_

_There's a lot more to this crate than just the letters. I even found an artifact at the bottom, an intricate bracelet made out of electrum and pearls. There's a diary in here that talks about an underwater city full of gold, like a sunken Cibola._

_There's disturbing things, too. A bunch of entries are about something called the "Innsmouth Look" that seems to be a degenerative hereditary disease, though I can't match the symptoms up with anything online. You'll be happy to know that Mom assured me we're not related to that line, so you won't have to take care of a scaly, shuffling frog man in my old age. Well, I might eventually shuffle, though both my parents are still pretty spry._

_I also found bits and pieces of a series of newspaper articles from the 1800s about the FBI coming in to stop a plague and dynamite an island. The newsprint is really deteriorated, like the family didn't want them to last but couldn't bear to chuck anything of possible historical significance. I might have to see if Sadusky can find anything about it in the archives._

_It seems right up your alley, though. Weird hidden cult, FBI intervention, long-forgotten plagues, and a treasure. Maybe I'll get to see you again before Christmas after all._

_Yours,_  
_Ben_

* * *

"I can't believe you thought I wouldn't see you before Christmas," said Riley, looking huffy. "But then, I also can't believe you can't email me like a normal human being, so there is that."

"I like writing letters," I replied, but I couldn't stop grinning just to see his face outside my door. "A lot of the research I've done in my life has been based on letters, so you'll excuse me if I enjoy leaving a record of our friendship for future generations."

Riley looked mollified. "Well, at least you answered your phone," he said, following me inside. "Now, what's this about Dagon? That got me very few google hits, you know. Are you sure you spelled it right?"

"Just come look," I said, leading him over to my desk, where I'd spread out the entire contents of the crate.

He picked up the bracelet first, as I knew he would, turning it over in his hands. "You know, these pearls almost look like they're in a pattern, but it's not regular. I wonder if some of them fell off?"

"There's no empty settings in the gaps," I said, running my fingers over the bumps of them, eerie green pearls set against green-tinged gold alloy. "It's almost like braille."

"Yeah, but that's not real braille," said Riley. "It's four lines tall."

"Modern braille writing became the standard in 1834, but this bracelet seems older. The earliest letters are dated 1927," I said, thinking aloud as I always did. "Morse code is even more recent, and this is all dots and blanks, no dashes."

"So, it's just an ugly design," said Riley with a shrug.

I looked down at the bracelet, seeing the sickly green cast to the electrum alloy as if for the first time, the unsettling way the metal had been shaped to look like seaweed or tentacles, and the oily luster of the pearls. "For all I know," I said, echoing his shrug, "it's the product of some oyster farmer with a stash of extra pearls and a weird hobby." I still had to force myself to put it down, to stop running my fingers over those sinuous curves and smooth nubs.

* * *

_Riley,_

_Yes, I know you like email, but humor me. It was really good to see you again, it's been way too long since our last adventure and both of us finding and losing our girlfriends. I pieced together those articles better and preserved them in plastic, and I'm going to try taking them to Sadusky today._

_Don't worry, he's forgiven me for the thing with the President. At least, I'm pretty sure he has._

_Yours,_  
_Ben_

* * *

"Why does the sight of your name in my schedule not fill me with sunshine and happiness?" asked Sadusky, leaning back in his chair.

"If it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure this has nothing to do with any of the current or former leaders of our great nation," I said, taking the seat he gestured toward. I passed over the folder of old newspaper clippings. "I found these among some other documents in Mom's attic, and I was curious if you knew anything about it. Apparently the crate was inherited from a distant branch of family on her side."

"No Gates ancestors involved?" asked Sadusky. At my nod, he took the folder and began to look through the articles. He gave the documents his full and careful attention, which showed what I always liked about the man -- he didn't assume without all the facts.

"I'm sure those records are probably long buried in some warehouse," I said, after the silence got to me, "but I was hoping we could find out if they really did dynamite an island to stop a plague of frogs."

"Or frog men," said Sadusky, closing the folder. "It's not very clear on exactly what kind of plague they're talking about."

"I think the frog men had a degenerative hereditary disease, a journal I found talks about it extensively. Symptoms include icthiosis, loss of mobility, and a croaky voice. The man who wrote the diary seemed very concerned about his own ancestry after his time in Innsmouth," I said. "It didn't sound contagious."

"Well," said Sadusky. He was making some notes on a pad next to his desk, heavy pen flashing in the light. "I think we both know how easy it is for an overzealous agent to cause more damage than they prevent."

We shared a wry laugh, and it felt almost like we were friends, though I knew he'd still arrest me the next time I put a toe out of line on his turf.

"So, do you think I can see some of those old archives?" I asked hopefully.

"Of course not," said Sadusky. "But since Agent Spellman is currently in the doghouse, I'll be happy to set her to the task."

"I'll try not to abscond with any national treasures or public figures until she's done," I said. I stood and extended my hand, and he shook it, then returned the folder. "I'll let you know if we need another look at this."

"Thank you," I said, tucking it away in my bag. "Next time I'll bring some bread, and we can feed the ducks for old times' sake."

He was still chuckling when I let myself out, which I hoped was a good sign.

* * *

_Riley,_

_I don't know why you insist on replying to letters with texts, but I suppose it's only what I deserve, all things considered._

_Speaking of uncomfortable moments, Mom and Dad are having a Christmas party this year to celebrate not hating each other as much anymore, and you are cordially invited. Dad even promised not to tell you that being with me will ruin your life more than twice._

_Say you'll come?_

_Yours,_  
_Ben_

* * *

"Did you bring me an obscure fish cult to try to win me back?" asked Riley the next time I saw him.

I grinned. "Did it work?"

"Maybe," he said. "Depends on what's for dinner and if you got anything interesting from the FBI."

"You say the sweetest things," I said dryly, shutting the door after him. "I thought we'd get that pizza you like. I already bought the beer."

"Sometimes you really are way better than a chick," he replied, flopping on my sofa. "Want to hear what I found out?"

"Obviously," I said. I grabbed two beers out of the fridge and joined him, sitting close just like we used to. He didn't move away, which I took as an even better sign. "I already ordered the pizza."

"Charmer," Riley said with a laugh. "All right, so apparently the EOD was a sort of combination fish cult and secret society, like the Masons with Christianity only way weirder and more obscure."

"The Masons are pretty weird," I said, just to watch him try not to let me derail him. I suspected this tendency might have had something to do with why Abigail left me. Riley was cuter when he was enthusiastic about something, anyway.

"The Masons weren't into human sacrifice to the underwater city of the fish men," said Riley. "Apparently prosperity in the form of good fishing and washed-up gold trinkets like your bracelet came at the cost of a few travelling salesmen at regular intervals. Also there's something about women for breeding, which is just horrible, so I'm ignoring it for now."

"Ew," I said. "That explains the dynamite, anyway."

"Yeah," said Riley. "Anyway, apparently the head of all the fish men or frog men or whatever was called Dagon, and these Deep Ones were his minions."

"Charming," I said. The doorbell rang, and I went and paid for the pizza, wings, and those cinnamon things he pretended to hate and always ate more than his share of. I came back with our feast to find he'd scrounged up plates and napkins from my kitchen, just like he used to back in the day. This time the pang of longing was a lot stronger than my curiosity, but I was determined to earn the second chance with more than bracelets and ancestral fish gods.

We got settled back in with food, and I told him about Sadusky's findings, which dovetailed nicely with Riley's. There had been some sort of fish cult temple out on Devil Reef, and they'd dynamited it to discourage a resurgence after a number of disappearances in the area. It wasn't a plague of frogs or even frog men, but of disappearances. Too many travellers vanished on their way up the coast from Boston, and the FBI got involved.

"All right, so now we basically know what happened," said Riley. "Hereditary disease becomes a crazy human sacrifice cult, the FBI comes in and stops it, the end."

"And a box of documents about it gets passed around from estate to estate until it ends up in Mom's attic," I said with a laugh. "I'm glad we figured it out, anyway. Not knowing was going to drive me crazy."

"I still wonder if there's some kind of code or clue to the rest of the Innsmouth treasure in that bracelet," said Riley, giving me a look that was pure challenge.

"Well, maybe that's something for us to do together in the new year," I offered.

Riley grinned and leaned in close. "I guess we do have better things to do over Christmas."

I couldn't help but agree.

* * *

_Dear Mom,_

_Remind me next time I want to go up the coast in the middle of winter that I'm an idiot. It's freezing here in Innsmouth, and even Riley isn't enough to keep me warm._

_The town's got that look of a lot of towns these days, half abandoned and full of despair. I've seen a couple of people with the "Innsmouth Look" shuffling around, but I tried not to stare. I guess the heredity still breeds true out here, and I'm glad you've assured me I don't have that to look forward to._

_So far looking into old records hasn't gotten us much of anything but frozen fingers. City Hall is as draughty as everywhere else, and the basement is basically a giant industrial freezer. It looks like they really wiped out all signs of the old cult after the incident with the FBI. I guess it doesn't do a lot for civic pride._

_Riley's been wearing the bracelet under his coat, just in case we run across some kind of codex or key that will unlock its secrets. The more I look at it, the more I'm sure there's meaning hidden in the design somewhere. If only I could force my brain to turn that corner and see the solution._

_Anyway, we should be back in another day or two. We'll probably beat this letter back, honestly, but I thought you'd enjoy getting mail from Innsmouth._

_Love,_  
_Ben_

* * *

"If I knew this was what it took to get you to hold my hand in public, I'd have started wearing jewelry ages ago," said Riley.

I looked down and was surprised to find I had my hand curled around his wrist, teasing along the curves of the bracelet where it met his skin. "All you had to do was ask," I said, to cover up my confusion. I slipped my hand down into his, twining our fingers together to keep mine off the artifact.

"Maybe the key to the code in the bracelet was lost when they dynamited that reef," said Riley. "Like 'the secret lies with Charlotte' only this secret's in the bottom of the ocean."

The thought of going into that ocean filled me with a dread I can't quite explain, but was happy to take seriously. "Then maybe we'd best leave it to lie there," I said. "Mom and Dad are expecting us for dinner on Friday, anyway."

There was an unhappy croak behind us, and I realized we were blocking the sidewalk. "Sorry," I said, moving aside for a squat figure in a billowing overcoat. It shuffled past in the characteristic walk of those afflicted with the Innsmouth disease, and I had to suppress a shiver of body horror at the idea of that happening to me someday.

"I thought your dad was still mad at me for not having a womb," said Riley, twinkling happily at me, oblivious to my turbulent thoughts.

"I told him I'd knock up some lesbians if it'd make him happy," I replied, which made Riley laugh. His whole face lit up as he began to tell me about one of his many conspiracy theories, this one involving the substitution of the fertility doctor's seed in every one of his IVF patients.

"Wasn't that an episode of some TV show?" I asked, just to egg him on. I wondered if it would be worth the overnight delay to lure Riley back to our hotel room once he got himself all worked up, but in the end I decided I wanted to be shut of this town sooner rather than later.

"Come on," I said, our meandering steps becoming purposeful as I pulled him toward the familiar town square. "Let's pack up and check out early, we can find a diner on the way out with that app you downloaded."

"Really? Because I have been dying to get a real milkshake," said Riley, practically bouncing, pulling me along with him now.

I felt something inside me relaxing at the thought of putting Innsmouth behind us for good.

* * *

_secretly_fishmen replied to that_riley_poole's post:_

_[Hey, does anyone know anything about the Esoteric Order of Dagon? I haven't had any good google hits, but you know google likes to hide the truth in plain sight when it suits them. A friend of mine found some stuff in an estate and I wanted to know if it was real.]_

_Better hope your friend isn't part of the line of Innsmouth, or you'll lose him to the waves eventually. Y'ha-nthlei is deeper than the FBI could ever have guessed. Stay away._

* * *

"So, are you going to make me pursue it?" I asked, when Riley showed me the forum post. It was the only reply he'd gotten with any useful information, and it had come days too late. Despite having donated all the documents to the Innsmouth Historical Society, I still felt a little shiver of dread at the thought of going back there. We'd kept the bracelet, but it was stashed in a safety deposit box where it was safely out of mind and out of sight.

Riley turned and grinned sleepily at me, putting the laptop aside. "Nah," he said, snuggling up with a kiss, warm and pliant and ready for bed. "Just this once, we'll let sleeping treasures lie."


End file.
